


The Painful Scream That I Heard Last

by kafrickinboom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Creatures Are Known, Angst, Banshee Lydia Martin, Because I can't think of another plausible reason that people wouldn't question her scream, Blood and Injury, Car Accidents, Coeur de Pirate, Death, F/F, I'm Sorry, Last Kiss, New Relationship, Song Lyrics, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 18:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafrickinboom/pseuds/kafrickinboom
Summary: Based on Coeur de Pirate's version of"Last Kiss."An AU where Allison didn't die by the end of a blade, but rather as a result of an unfortunate car accident.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hi. I'm apparently both a sadist and a masochist for writing this one. Heed the tags.

“No. Please, no! Allison, wake up! Please, baby, wake up!” 

Lydia knelt on the muddy ground near the ruin of her father’s car, Allison’s bloodied head cradled in her arm, the rest of her supported by Lydia’s legs. Rain drops and fat tear tracks cut through the red staining Allison’s face as Lydia wept over her girlfriend’s unmoving body. She rocked back and forth, clinging to the woman she loved, ignoring the commotion around her. 

This was supposed to be a good night. Their second official date.

_ How could this happen? _

\---

Lydia smiled to herself excitedly in the reflection of herself in the rearview mirror. She finally managed getting permission to borrow her dad’s car to take her girlfriend out. 

Her  _ girlfriend, _ she bit her lips to try and contain the giddy smile tugging at her lips. She and Allison had been dancing around one another for  _ ages. _ It was always Jackson or Scott or Aiden or Isaac or stress or circumstances or emotional unavailability or doubt getting in the way. It took well over a year for Lydia to work out whether or not Allison was even attracted to women as well, and months waiting for the right moment to even work up the nerve to ask Allison about it.

Lydia doesn’t think the image of Allison’s shock would ever deteriorate. She smiles fondly, thinking back on her girlfriend’s reaction not even a full month ago.

_ “W-what? No! I mean...maybe?” A sigh. “Yes. I’ve known I’m bi for a while now. Why? It doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it?” She’d asked, like that was even a possibility. She flushed in the face of Lydia’s unimpressed expression. _

_ “Obviously not. Some of our closest friends are part of the LGBT community. Hell,  _ I’m _ part of the LGBT community.” She remarked with a smirk.  _

_ Allison’s beautiful, chocolate brown eyes had popped wide at that admission. She stuttered and tripped over her words as a flush suffused over her entire face. Lydia had never seen someone who blushed so beautifully as Allison Argent. She bit her lip on a coy smile, muffling her laugh.  _

_ “That’s quite the pretty flush you’ve got there, Ally.” She couldn’t help but tease. When Allison’s bashful embarrassment fell into the realm of ‘mortified,’ Lydia scooted forward over her bed, resting her hand over Allison’s, thumb dragging over the soft, pale skin. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re absolutely stunning no matter what face you make.”  _

_ Allison’s wide eyes met her own. “Lyds, if I’d known…” She pauses to take a deep breath, squaring her shoulders in an approximation of confidence. “If I’d known, I...well, I don’t know what I would have done, but now? You’re all I’ve been able to think about lately.” Her voice shook as her bravery began flagging, but Lydia just smiled encouragingly. With a thick swallow, Allison continued. “We’ve both been single for a while now, and I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t even think about dating anyone else when a-all I want...is-is you.” She laughed like it was a relief to have it off her chest, tilting her face to the ceiling to take a moment to recollect herself before refocusing on Lydia, meeting her eye with that fierce determination that always ignited something deep in Lydia every time she saw it. “Do you want to go out sometime?” _

Lydia smirked to herself as she pulled up to Allison’s house, thinking about telling her she loved her. It might be soon in the relationship, but they’ve known each other for far too long now to pretend what she was feeling was anything less than love. A trill of nerves swept through her, but it was the kind of nerves when you're about to go on stage to accept an award or something amazing rather than the nausea-inducing negative bullshit. 

She got out and walked up to the door (she had some couth, thank you very much). As soon as she poised her hand to knock, the door flew open. Allison’s beaming smile complete with crinkled eyes and dimples Lydia could sink into greeted her. Lydia took in the intricate updo she sported - something that required more effort than she would usually put into her hair, wisps of hair artfully pulled from the braids. She took in the black liner and the hint of gloss. She took in the tight, black pants and the equally tight, bright shirt under her leather jacket. It made Lydia want to ruin it all by sliding her fingers into her hair, dragging her in for a filthy kiss.

Lydia licked her lips and didn’t fail to catch Allison’s eyes trailing over its path. She smirked as Allison stepped through, closing the door the behind her. She watched as Allison coquettishly walked to the car, turn back once to wink at Lydia. This girl was going to  _ kill _ her. 

Just as they closed themselves into the car, the dark clouds that had wonderfully provided protection from the setting midsummer sun tore open, a slow-building storm painting the ground with rain. Sometimes Lydia cursed that group of witches that brought the  _ lapis manalis _ to their little corner of California. She wanted their night to be perfect, and getting soaked later in the evening was not something she was looking forward to. She understood that they just wanted to try and stop the drought, but  _ damn it. _ Lydia pursed her lips as she looked up at the sky. The clouds were almost black and stretched to the horizon no matter which way she turned. Thank the lord she had umbrellas in the center console. She sighed, mentally patting herself on the back for being prepared for everything.

She gave Allison a nervous, little smile as she pulled out of the driveway, heading for the little restaurant in the next town Allison had been talking about for the last week. They made small talk about what they thought they’d order, what movie they’d see afterward.

The sun set much sooner than Lydia had anticipated. As she got off the ramp to the empty highway, she quickly readjusted the mirrors she hadn’t previously noticed were very slightly off. 

Suddenly, Allison clamped down on Lydia’s arm, screaming for her to stop. There in the road, straight up ahead and hidden by the rain, a dead, dark car sat in their lane, obviously stalled. Lydia slammed on the brakes, but she knew they were far too close. They’d slam right into the back, so she did the only thing she could think of in that blip of time. She swerved to the right.

They say that time slows down when something chaotic or tragic happens, that your whole life flashes behind your eyes - usually they focus on good times, the happy moments with a sprinkling of the bad. They say it all seems to happen in slow motion.

It’s bullshit.

It happened so quickly that her senses worked on overdrive to take it all in. The screaming tires along the side of the road; her arms locking and she gripped the steering wheel tighter; the brief, intense vibration from passing over the rumble strip; the stolen look at Allison as they braced for impact; the bright, hot flash of horror; the slam of the passenger side of the car slamming into the metal barrier; the terrified cries from both her and Allison; vertigo and a rush anger at the hidden car’s driver and panic and regret ripping through her as they flipped over and into the ditch; the busting glass all around her; the airbags deploying, but the side airbags failing to protect them (the memory of her father telling her he needed to have it looked at just earlier in the week flashed in her mind); the fleeting question running through her mind -  _ did Allison buckle her seatbelt?; _ a heavy strike of her head slamming into her window as they jerked to a stop; a sharp, panicked, painful scream the last thing to pervade through her as she slipped into a heavy, gray fog clouding her mind. It all happened in less than 20 seconds. She wouldn’t forget a single second of it.

When she came back to consciousness, the first thing she thought was,  _ damn, it’s really pouring down, _ for half a second before allowing her head to lawl toward the right, about to ask Allison if she was okay. Only Allison wasn’t there. In a burst of adrenaline, she panicked, fighting with the stubborn seatbelt until she was free. She had to fight gravity pulling her to the ground since the car landed on the passenger side, nestled into the ditch. With shaky arms, she managed to pull herself from the wreckage, completely ignoring the people standing around. It seemed the worst of the damage to her was the massive goose egg on the side of her head, a ton of bruising and couple handfuls of superficial cuts.

She had to try three times to call out to Allison. Her voice was shot from the frightened screaming. Something warm flowed through her eyes - she didn’t know whether it was rain, blood, tears or a mix of all three, but she remained vigilant in her search for her girlfriend. She finally found Allison about after spotting the bright, neon pink of her shirt. 

Lydia felt the bile rise in her throat as she spotted the pieces of glass sticking out from Allison’s skin. Two large pieces in particular made the air in Lydia’s lungs rush out of her, her chest pressing in tight. They were bloody, the pointed ends standing proud from the flesh of Allison’s stomach in a way that made it obvious they entered from the back. She clawed her way to Allison in a panic, settling herself on her knees beside her beloved, hands shaking as she didn’t know what to do. 

“A-Allison?” She choked out. “No. Please, no! Allison, wake up! Please, baby, wake up!”

The briefest moment of relief came as Allison’s eyes flickered open, sluggishly rolling until they landed on Lydia. She tried to move toward her and gasped painfully as the glass shifted. “L-Lydia. Hold me. Please. Just a little while.”

Lydia’s lips trembled, absolutely no energy to hold back the tears that poured from her eyes. She lifted Allison’s head, trying her absolute hardest not to hurt her anymore than necessary. She clung tightly to the woman she loved more than anything in this entire universe, her best friend, the woman who didn’t care that she was a harbinger of death, the woman she had just started to grow a relationship with, the woman Lydia could see spending the rest of her life with. She wept as she felt the itch in the back of her throat signaling her banshee scream building.

“I love you so fucking much, Ally. I just got you. Please don’t die on me now.  _ Please.” _ she needlessly cried. She knew before she felt the sensation inside her that Allison was probably a lost cause. She looked around for a second wondering where the  _ fuck _ the ambulance was. A weak hand slid over her cheek, refocusing her attention on Allison’s face. Lydia’s tears sprung anew as she took in the bloodless pallor of her cheeks, the tantalizing makeup now looking like a grotesque mask against Allison’s pale skin, the hollowed eyes that screamed of acceptance of her situation.

“It’s okay, Lyds. It’s gonna be okay.” She croaked, gasping shallowly like she was trying to minimize the pain of breathing, but being surprised that every breath hurt. She smiled up at Lydia’s tear-stained face. “This-this is perfect. I’m in the arms of the woman I love. The woman I’ll always love. I love-I love you, Lydia.” The corners of her lips tugged up, smiling so those dimples would be one of the last thing she saw before weakly adding, “kiss me.”

Lydia gave the most bittersweet laugh in recorded history (probably) as she leaned down, pressing her lips against Allison’s cold, barely-responsive ones. A faint press and a deep, relieved sigh that had no following inhale was a sound that would haunt Lydia’s memories for years to come. She pulled back, the need to scream was something she didn’t have the energy to fight. She tilted her head to the rain and screamed to the black sky above her. She screamed until there was no air in her lungs, until her throat felt raw from the power of it. She screamed until it petered out into deep, body-wracking sobs. She shifted Allison’s weight so she lay across Lydia’s lap, ignoring the blood seeping into her skirt and the mud caking her shins.

She shakily ran her fingers through Allison’s hair, brushing it from her face.  _ Why didn’t she think of that when Allison was still alive? _ Her tears mixed with the rain, washing away the blood that had painted Allison’s face. Her face scrunched up tight, the pain in her heart too unbearable to contain. She howled her sorrow into the crook of Allison’s neck as she pulled her in tighter, ignoring the glass poking at her own stomach, rocking them back and forth as if trying to comfort them both about Allison’s passing. 

She refused to let go of her until Scott and Stiles arrived to pick her up, prying Allison’s dead body from her grip.

\--- 

_ 6 months later _

Lydia shivered as she settled into the park bench she’d bought in memoriam of Allison. It was in one of Allison’s favorite spots in Beacon Hills, on the top of the tallest hill, overlooking part of the preserve. Sometimes they’d come here in the early mornings before school to watch the sunrise. They did it once every couple of weeks, just sitting together, watching the colors change. It was now the middle of winter, when a light blanket of snow lay over the town almost every morning only to melt by the end of the day. Still, she came here like clockwork. She didn’t want to visit Allison’s grave marker - a lifeless stone that didn’t even lay over Allison’s body seeing as she was cremated. 

This.  _ This _ was where she could feel Allison, looking at the sky painted in pinks, peaches and ambers, remembering when Allison said it was one of those moments on this hill where she thought she could feel God.

She was never much of a believer in any deity. She valued science and numbers and logic over some imaginary being in the sky playing with the puppet strings, sometimes allowing evil people and creatures age until their strings wither away, sometimes cutting innocent, young people’s loose too soon. She knew Allison had some faith in a higher power. Allison  _ had _ to believe in some sort of deity otherwise all the violence and shit they’d seen was all for nothing. Lydia had always respected her faith, but if he was real, the Lord took her baby away from her, and for that she would never forgive him. She lost her closest friend, her confidante, her shoulder to cry on, her rock, her love, her future, her  _ life _ that night. 

Still,  _ if _ he was real, she aimed to be good enough to be accepted into Heaven. It might be a long way away, it might be soon. Regardless, if there was even a chance of reuniting in the afterlife, she was determined to fit the criteria for admission. She had a goal.  
  
She was going to see her baby when she left this world.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I very much did use an approximation of canon!Allison's last words in my story. I obviously don't own that or any of the lyrics of Wayne Cochran's song. I own nothing but the lines around them. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this as much as you could. I'm a sucker for a good, angsty story sometimes.


End file.
